The Door in The Wall
by ST-DL
Summary: Louisa Hurst just wants things with her husband to get back to what it used to be, but on her way she finds a treasure, something that will help not just her, but everyone around her to find love. Well, everyone but Caroline, but not everyone can have a happy ending. A tale in 5 parts.
1. Mrs Louisa Hurst

**This story was written for the Gender Reversals Playground. It was my first time writing Regency, and English is not my first language even as a modern language, so I apologize in advance for the numerous typos and grammar errors I have here. It's unbetad, per the playground rules.**

 **I also apologize for the overuse of the words: Odd, Rather, Corridor and Lever.**

 **The inspiration to this piece came from many sources, to name a few:** **Alice in Wonderland,** **Harry Potter, Being John Malkovich, The Secret Garden, The Bible, the trailer to the new Pixar movie Inside Out, and many others I probably forgot.**

 **The story was meant to be Louisa's story, but then Bingley wanted his opinions known, and then I had to write my beloved Elizabeth too. When I posted it I was asked to do Darcy's POV as well, and so I did and it turned out to be my favorite part. So there you have it.**

 **The Door on the Wall**

 **Part 1**

Louisa smoothed the fabric of her skirt nervously. Why did Caroline have to say this? Why?

" _Hurst married you for your money, Louisa. Don't lie to yourself."_

She still heard her sister's taunts as she paced back and forth along the corridor on the second landing in Netherfield.

"Was it too much to ask for a little affection?" she asked the portrait on the wall. The severe monk kept looking at her, rather severely, she thought.

She did not marry for love, that's for sure, but when she met Eugene Hurst she hoped for companionship. He was round around the middle even as they courted, and she rather liked that. She liked his enthusiasm for food, though he didn't drink so much back then. And they had rather interesting talks about clothing and food and archery. Louisa rather liked archery. From afar, of course. Their first nights as a married couple were lovely. Both of them were of like minds in the bedroom as well. Nothing too intense, not too long, not too many times. Sometimes he stayed the night, but never hugged her. His palm sometimes met hers fleetingly and it was just as she wanted it to be. And then, a few months ago, he stopped coming to her bedroom and started drinking. The more he drank the less he had contact with her. She rather missed him.

"I need to know." She muttered as she paced in circles near the monk's portrait. "Why does he ignore me every evening?"

It happened around the seventh circle. At least that's what she thought anyway. She didn't really bother to count, she was very agitated, thank you very much!

A door suddenly appeared on the wall, right next to the monk. Above the iron door, beautifully decorated with iron cakes and fruits, was written 'I will seek him whom my soul loves', in big iron letters.

Her shock was so great she nearly stumbled on her skirts. With a weary look she glanced around her, no one was about. Just her and a magical door. Magical! Insanity!

Gingerly she lifted her hand and touched the handle. Nothing happened. Well, that was anticlimactic, she thought. She turned the handle and the door opened, revealing a long tunnel, lit with handsome candelabras. The sweet smell of treacle tart beckoned her to enter, and as soon as her legs touched the tunnel's floor, the door closed with a big thud. Louisa turned around in panic, but there was no door there anymore, instead she saw a solid wall.

"Breathe," she told herself. "It would not do to faint where no one can save you." She lifted her skirts and moved along the narrow, lit corridor. The floor was uneven and covered with dirt, it was a tedious walk and she might have been grateful when it ended, had it not ended with a sudden fall into a pit. She felt like she was falling for hours, she was fighting to keep her skirts from hovering and revealing what no one but Gisele, her maid since she was young, and Eugene have ever seen. Not that it mattered, it was pitch black, no one could see anything anyway. But one should always be cautious.

Finally, she landed on a large soft pillow. The soft light was back and she noticed that the pillow was burgundy colored, Eugene's favorite color. Now that she thought about it, treacle tart was her husband's favorite pudding. She looked around her and found herself standing in a large room. Five small strawberry-like creatures were standing next to some odd machinery, and in the middle of the room was some kind of a screen. She was just thinking how odd the screen looked when it was suddenly lifted, revealing a huge apparition of... Mr. Darcy?

"Damn tedious waste of an evening." She heard her husband's familiar voice vibrating about the room.

The huge Mr. Darcy looked at her and said, "Hurst, care for some port?"

Louisa felt a grunt shaking the floor. Then Mr. Darcy disappeared and instead she got a long look of the port's crystal glass. It was then that it downed on her. Somehow, God knows how, she was in her dear Eugene's head!

The little creatures didn't seem to notice her, and just moved about, fiddling with the levers and clocks and what not. It was all rather odd.

Charles said something about an archery contest he read about in the morning's paper and a heated debate developed between the three gentlemen. Louisa felt a stab of jealousy, why can't Eugene talk to her like that anymore?

"Well, time to get back to the ladies, don't you think?" Charles said.

"Oh no, I think we need another drink before I can face the damn shrew," said one of the strawberries. And true enough, Eugene asked for a refill, sans the cuss words, before they all clambered out of the study.

Louisa clutched at her bosom with her hand and tried to hold back tears. Is that what her husband thought of her? A shrew? She was inclined to angrily walk back the way she came from, but then remembered that she had no way to go up the chute and the door up there turned back into a wall.

"Miss Bennet, how is your sister?"

Louisa quickly ascertained that what she saw was the after dinner's entertainment in the drawing room. Louisa herself begged off her hosting duties and claimed a headache, after hearing her sister's thoughtless remark. It was actually how she found herself in the second floor alone, she was distraught! After a bit of watching the tedious scene of Mr. Darcy looking at Miss Elizabeth and Caroline fuming and interrupting, Louisa had enough and decided to take notice of the room she was in and its inhabitant.

"It's funny how Darcy thinks no one notice how much he looks at Miss Elizabeth," a strawberry sneered while he was working on the levers on his machine.

"No one but the lady herself," laughed another strawberry.

"The shrew sees right through it, unfortunately. Poor Mr. Darcy, if I was him I'd lock the door when I sleep."

Louisa startled when her husband's eyes narrowed at her sister's face. He was speaking of her sister when he referred to 'the shrew'? Why? What had she ever done to him?

"Where is Louisa?" asked a strawberry at the other side of room.

"She looked beautiful during dinner, did she not?" said another one. "Did you see the way she ate her ragout? Her hand is so delicate and fine."

"Perhaps we should ask where she went to. We long to see her."

"What would it help with? I think it's time we take a nap before the longing gets too much."

"Remind me why we are not doing anything about it? I think Louisa would like to-"

"Don't be silly, you remember what the shrew said. Louisa doesn't want you, she cares only for your status and connections. Better sleep it off, I can't stand all this agony..."

A fog descended and the strawberries fell asleep. Louisa walked backwards, trying to keep herself from the dense fog when she felt her legs give way and she fell again, screaming all the way down.

She found herself in her bed, a wet cloth on her forehead.

"I must be dreaming," she weakly said to herself. What are the odds?

"Mrs. Hurst, what happened to your shoes?"

Louisa looked at Gisele with surprise. Her maid held her slippers high to show the bottom caked with dirt. She gasped, her hand on her mouth.

"If you will, Gisele, I have something of great importance to speak with Mr. Hurst."


	2. Mr Charles Bingley

**Thank you everyone for your kind words, I love your comments!**

 **Just a few answers:**

 **Lady Mischief -** I hope you'll understand the strawberries better after this chapter.

 **Astonishment -** We won't see much of Mrs. Hurst, because each chapter is a different character's POV. But she did confront her sister and I hope that this chapter and the one after it will make it clear that they were definitely not friends anymore.

 **Ivy2010 -** Thank you! It gets better with practice :)

 **Rachel -** I know there was a large amount of "rather" in the first chapter, but I felt it fit Mrs. Hurst. She always struck me as a dispassionate kind of woman and it fit her POV. You won't see much of it in the rest of the chapters. Each have their own characteristic voice.

 **The Door on the Wall**

 **Part 2**

Charles Bingley was anything but his usual cheery self as he stood in the middle of the second floor of his leased property, Netherfield, looking at the serious looking monk in the frame in front of him.

Just a week ago he had three conversations that were too much for his sensibilities. He had to be in London for business, and imagine his surprise when he came back to his London home from a most tedious meeting with his solicitor, and found his sisters, brother and Darcy in his drawing room.

Apparently, they closed Netherfield down, closed! Without his permission! It was all very vexing. And then Caroline started disparaging the Bennets and trying to convince him to stay in London. That first conversation was just the start of a very confounding evening. Next came Darcy, and the conversation with him made him so sad that he drank two glasses of brandy in a row. It was very uncharacteristic of him. He wasn't quite sure he even knew how to spell uncharacteristic anyway. Darcy said that dear Miss Bennet did not have feelings for him. Being a Darcy, he always knew what he was about, and Charles Bingley was hard pressed to find fault in anything Darcy ever said. No, it was probable that Miss Bennet did not love him. It was so very depressing. But then the most confusing of conversation came with his sister Louisa.

Louisa came to his study right after Mr. Darcy left, closed the door and asked for a conference with him.

"What did Caroline and Mr. Darcy wanted from you, brother?" she had asked.

Her voice was almost kind, very unlike her. But she had changed in these last few weeks, he supposed. He could see that lately she spent more time with her husband and almost none with her sister, it was rather perplexing.

He loathed to talk about it, and so kept silence. He was ever more surprised when his sister asked whether they tried to dissuade him from offering to Miss Bennet.

"They did," he admitted.

"I don't think you should decide anything until you know how she feels for you, brother."

"But how do I know how she feels? Asking her and finding out she doesn't have any affection for me would be… heartbreaking…" he lamented.

"It is heartbreaking anyway, isn't it?"

He never thought Louisa could be so perceptive.

"I'm not saying you should offer for her, her connections are still unsatisfying, to say the least. But if you love her and want to know how she feels, I have a way for you to find out."

She then proceeded to tell him that she is not speaking to Caroline. He had no idea how it related to their subject, but he did notice the strain between his sisters in the last few weeks. His surprise was still great to learn of the altercation between them. According to Louisa, Caroline deliberately caused a rift between her and her husband. Worse, Louisa demanded that he find her another housing solution. She will not have her in her house anymore. He was already resigned to write his aunt Millicent in Scarborough, when Louisa added more confusing information. It took him a week to gather up his courage and ride to Meryton. And now he found himself in the closed off Netherfield, in a dark and cold corridor, pacing in a circle and chanting his wish like a mantra.

"I need to know how she feels about me."

He wasn't sure how many circles he made. Louisa said to make at least seven, but it was hard to count and chant at the same time. He was surprised when a door appeared, it's not that he didn't believe his sister, but because her description was completely off the mark. The door was made of pure gold, not iron, and was decorated with delicate forget-me-nots. Above it was written 'I will seek him whom my soul loves' in pink delicate letters. Eagerly he opened the door and the sweet scent of Miss Bennet's rose perfume assaulted his nostrils. He remembered suddenly, while they danced at the ball she told him that she loved the smell of roses, but her favorite flower was forget-me-not. Confidently, he followed the candle lit trail. He didn't even notice the door closing behind him. Even though Louisa warned him, he was still surprised when he fell in the dark chute. His surprise was complete when he landed on a mound of blue feathers and pink rose petals. For a minute, he just laid there, feeling like he was floating in a cloud. It was all so very romantic. His mood lifted considerably since he saw the door on the wall. Finally, eager to see Miss Bennet, he walked down the path and into a large room. The room was light blue colored, and the floor was more like a cloud than an actual floor. Eight little kingfisher birds were handling the heavy machinery in the room, but they seemed very unenthusiastic. The screen in the middle of the room opened and he saw Miss Bennet in a mirror, Miss Elizabeth was brushing her sister's hair behind her. It was a comforting image, if not for the red rimmed eyes of his beloved and Miss Elizabeth's angry scowl.

"Oh Jane," he heard Miss Elizabeth say.

"Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry," chanted a bird who was trying with all it's might to press a lever down with its tiny legs.

"Do you need any help there?" another bird asked. "Shall I call enforcement?"

"I'm fine, disaster averted," said the first bird.

"I'll be fine, dear sister. I'll be fine." Miss Bennet said in a small voice. "He made me no promises, I cannot blame him. If he loves someone else, who am I to be in the way of his happiness?"

"It cannot be!"

"This is what Miss Bingley had written, you've seen the letter. He is to court Miss Darcy."

"That's not what she said, though she might as well have said it, instead of alluding to it so obviously."

Why, the gall! In this moment, Charles was ever so glad Caroline was not here, or he would have strangled her on the spot. He was ready to ride straight to Longbourn, despite the weather and the late hour, and assure Miss Bennet that he is, in fact, not courting Miss Darcy. But then he remembered that he hadn't actually heard her say what she felt about him.

"You really should go to London, stay with aunt and uncle and call on his house."

"Oh, Lizzy, I couldn't. What if he doesn't want to see me?"

"What if he does?" Miss Elizabeth asked. "Do you love him?"

"I do," Miss Bennet whispered, and Charles thought his heart was going to break from seeing her expression in the mirror.

"Then fight for him. Go to London."

It was then that Charles noticed a few drops of rain on his face. He looked up in wonder, the blue ceiling was wet and drops started dripping haphazardly about the room.

"Red alert! Red alert!" the chanting bird from before called out. "Don't cry! Think of babies!"

"Not good, babies remind us of Mr. Bingley," cried a bird from across the room.

"Flowers!"

"Mr. Bingley likes flowers."

"Damn! Find something before we drown! Mayday! Mayday!" and seconds later, the ceiling opened and rain started pouring heavily.

Charles gasped and cursed when the rain hit him hard, and a moment later he felt his legs give way and he fell and fell and fell.

He wasn't surprised to find himself back in the second floor corridor, but the fact that he was completely drenched made his heart soar. It was real! To Longbourn on the morrow!


	3. Miss Elizabeth Bennet

**Thank you everyone for your wonderful comments and all the favorites and follows. You make my heart sing :)**

 **Here's Lizzy's POV. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.**

 **The Door on the Wall**

 **Part 3**

Elizabeth wandered the empty corridors of Netherfield aimlessly.

After a fortnight of readying the once closed house, and an invitation for his sister to play host, Mr. Bingley was finally able to entertain. It was rather odd to find that Mrs. Hurst was the host and not Miss Bingley, but Mr. Bingley said Miss Bingley was visiting their aunt in Scarborough. Yesterday, though, while they were readying themselves for bed, Jane told her the oddest tale about how Miss Bingley was sent to Scarborough.

"Charles," Jane blushed as she said his Christian name, "was telling me a very strange story today."

Only a few days ago Mr. Bingley secured her sister's hand, and since then Elizabeth played as chaperone whenever they walked outside. It was lucky that the weather turned after more than a week of torrential rain, or they all would have been stuck in the drawing room with their mother for company. As she walked a fair distance from her sister and her beau, Elizabeth's head was engaged in other things than the winter's murky landscape. She was thinking about love, wondering if she would ever have one. She thought she was ever content with being an old maid, looking after her numerous nieces and nephews, but her opinion slowly changed. She wanted more, she wanted marriage. Not like her sister's, or heaven forbid like her friend Charlotte's suitor. No, Charles Bingley was everything charming, but too accommodating, too nice. She wanted someone to respect her and challenge her and… something else she couldn't name.

And after hearing Jane's story, which was actually Mr. Bingley's and Mrs. Hurst's story, she couldn't help but wanting to try it. It was clear that this door appeared when someone was in need of a loved one. If she followed it, she may find out if someone loved her. It was exciting and terrifying. What if no one loved her? What if she was to walk and walk and walk in the corridor and reach nowhere? Or maybe the door just wouldn't open?

Today Jane came to visit Netherfield, as the future mistress. Her mother and Elizabeth came with her, each with their reason. Mrs. Bennet was here to help her daughter and boast about the great match her daughter made. They were to tour the house with Mr. Bingley and the housekeeper and to see if there were changes needed to be made. Elizabeth came with two purposes in mind, one was to give support to her sister against her mother and Mrs. Hurst, the other was to investigate the second floor's corridor.

While Mr. Bingley, along with the other ladies, went to tour the kitchens, Elizabeth sneaked up the stairs and moved along the deserted hallway until she found the monk's portrait.

"Well, here goes nothing," she muttered and paced around in circles while thinking about finding her love.

Louisa may have forgotten to tell her brother a few details, and Mr. Bingley's description of the incident to his betrothed wasn't accurate either. Jane was too distracted by her Charles' enchanting eyes to listen carefully as well. And so not all the information passed on to Elizabeth. For example, no one told her how many circles she should make. It didn't signify much, because Elizabeth was willing to pace for as long as needed. It took exactly seven circles for a door to appear. The doorway was a magnificent oak door, carved with a beautiful art depicting nature, a waterfall and a horse grazing nearby. On the top were the words 'I will seek him whom my soul loves', written in red. She wasn't sure if it was blood or rubies, but the writing was even and dignified. It was at those words that Elizabeth paused. She believed before, that the tunnel will lead her to the person who loved her, but the words on the door made her reconsider. Was the door leading her to the one that _she_ loved? Was she willing to open her heart and see it? Up until now she did not even consider the idea of loving anyone. It was unsettling.

She hesitated, and then stubbornly lifted her chin. Her courage always rose with every attempt to intimidate her, even if she was intimidated by her own heart. With a sure hand she turned the handle and opened the door. A long corridor welcomed her, the candelabras light and pleasing, and she walked forward with a sure stride. When the door closed behind her, she did not look back. It did not matter to her anymore, she was too curious to leave the place anyway. She could smell the faint smell of lavender and smiled, it was her favorite perfume. It's funny how both of them liked the same fragrance.

The falling took her by surprise, it was much sooner than she expected. But the fall itself had a rather nice feeling. It was symbolic after all, as she imagined one must take a leap to fall in love. The darkness did not scare her, instead it somehow comforted her to be enveloped in it. When she landed onto the fresh hay she wasn't surprised at all, she somehow knew this mystery man liked simple things. The sweet scent was refreshing and reminded her of her childhood. Eagerly she pressed on until she reached a large room. Whatever she expected, it was not this.

Among the big machines in the room she recognized and counted two English setter puppies, one aged Springer Spaniel, two heavy Bullmastiffs, three sweet Jack Russell, and to her utter surprise, two regal British Shorthair cats. It was sweet, endearing and perplexing all at once. Who did she know that loved dogs and cats so much? Could it be that she entered her own brain? The Lavender, the hay, the cats and dogs… But then there was the horse, she was definitely not a horse woman. No, it must be someone else, someone almost compatible to her. It was then that she noticed the screen in the middle of the room. It was focused on a letter and Elizabeth was surprised to see her future brother's unreadable handwriting, announcing his wedding.

"A wedding!" huffed the orange eyed cat, his stance proud and erect. "I cannot believe he is going to marry Miss Bennet. What about her none existent connections? Her family? Her dowry?"

"Admit it, we envy him," the old spaniel retorted.

"Of course we do," the bigger Bullmastiff said as he calibrated his machine. "If we didn't have our responsibilities, we would offer for Miss Elizabeth on the first opportunity."

"We could have danced at the Netherfield ball as a betrothed couple," a Jack Russell dreamily danced in the middle of the room.

The letter on the screen started to blur, when a knock was heard.

"Come in," a dignified, deep voice vibrated about the room.

The screen, which she realized was her loved one's eyes, showed the door open and a tall young woman entered the room hesitantly.

"Georgiana, my sweet, you slept in today."

It took a moment for Elizabeth to realize what was happening. This was Georgiana! This was Miss Darcy! This meant that she was looking through the eyes of Mr. Darcy! It was all very unsettling. She leaned on the wall in order to keep herself straight. Mr. Darcy loved her? Was going to offer for her? It made no sense.

"No," she told herself. "He wasn't going to offer for me. He might have wanted to but he didn't do it, because of money and politics."

It was very disappointing. Not the fact that Mr. Darcy did not offer, but the fact that he did not love her enough to overcome these objections. What was the point of going through all this trouble to find that her soul mate did not love her enough? Not that she thought he was her soul mate, mind you!

Despite her inclination to walk away, she decided to stay, as she was curious to know more about Miss Darcy. Mr. Wickham said she was proud, but the tall woman with the face of a child and the pink fluffy dressing gown did not look proud at all. In fact, her face looked drawn and sad.

Miss Darcy said nothing, just stood at the door with her head down.

The spaniel muttered "the poor dear" from his perch next to a dashboard with weird looking clocks.

"Come," Mr. Darcy's voice, soft and unrecognizable, whispered. "Did you have nightmares again, my sweet?"

Now all Elizabeth could see was blond hair. It seemed that the staid Mr. Darcy buried his face in his sister's hair.

"Sniff her hair a little more," the blue eyed cat called out. "It'll calm him down."

"Sure," one of the Jack Russells said and pulled hard on a lever to his right.

"What were you doing, brother?" Miss Darcy asked.

Mr. Darcy sighed and the room shook a little. "I was reading a letter from Mr. Bingley, he is getting married, my sweet. To a Miss Bennet from Meryton in Hertfordshire"

"How wonderful!"

Elizabeth smirked. So much for Miss Bingley's aspirations.

"Can I come with you to the wedding, brother?" she asked innocently.

"Who said I'm going?" a hint of coldness was detected in his voice.

Miss Darcy obviously noticed it because she blanched. "I see," she whispered, tears forming in her eyes.

"Damn, she's crying!" yelled the spaniel. "Really Mittens, can we have a little less primness in his voice please? Or do you want to scare the poor dear?"

"Sorry," the orange eyed cat muttered and fiddled with his machine. "Force of habit."

"I don't think you see," Darcy said, his voice soft again.

"I do," his sister cried. "You're ashamed of me, that's why you don't want me to go with you."

"No! no, my sweet, it's not… it's complicated… but it's not you." He hesitated and again his sister caught on it.

"Will you not tell me?"

"Georgiana…"

"You don't trust me, I understand."

Elizabeth was utterly bemused by the conversation. Either Miss Darcy was a queen manipulator like Lydia, or there was a big story behind that she didn't know. For some reason she believed Miss Darcy, she seemed so innocent, there was no guile in her eyes.

"Tell her the truth, Rex," said the spaniel.

The bullmastiff nodded and pushed a lever, then turned to the cat. "Remember Mittens, softly."

"I can't stand to see you hurt, my sweet. Are you sure you want to know?"

"I'm not a little girl anymore, brother."

"You seem like a little girl to me," said the bullmastiff. Elizabeth agreed wholeheartedly.

"While I was in Hertfordshire with Mr. Bingley, I encountered Mr. Wickham."

All the color left on Miss Darcy's face disappeared the moment he said the name. "I promise brother, I will not let him fool me again. I will not let you down again!"

"Oh my darling, my sweet girl," Mr. Darcy said, his face in her hair again. "I don't want him to hurt you. You can never disappoint me, dearest."

Elizabeth stood, shell shocked, in front of the screen. Whatever Mr. Wickham has done, it must have been something horrible. She could no longer think of him as amiable, no, something very wrong happened here.

"Is Miss Bennet the one you wrote me about when you were in Hertfordshire?"

"Did we write about Miss Bennet?" a setter puppy asked, confused.

"No silly," Mittens informed him. "He wrote about Miss Elizabeth. Georgiana got confused."

"No, I wrote about her sister, Miss Elizabeth Bennet. I told you she walked three miles alone to nurse her sister."

Elizabeth was surprised to hear pride in his voice and none of the censure she expected.

"She must be so very brave!" Miss Darcy's eyes opened wide.

"Yes, well, it was her country estate and not London streets. I imagine she is wise enough to refrain from walking alone in a busy city. But the care for her sister is admirable."

"I so long to meet her, brother. Will you permit me to come with you? Please?"

"I thought we weren't going," a puppy asked Mittens.

"I still think it's a bad idea to go," Mittens said. "Being so close to Miss Elizabeth, it's dangerous."

"But it's very impolite to decline Bingley's invitation, Mittens," the blue eyed cat intervened. "We still need to adhere to propriety."

"Besides," the spaniel added, "Bingley would think we hate Miss Bennet and the friendship will suffer. It's not that we can afford to lose a friend."

"It's better than the alternative. Can you imagine? Staying friends with Bingley? Being in close proximity to Miss Elizabeth? Watching her being courted by someone else?" Mitten replied.

"No!" the puppies cried.

For a few moments, there was complete chaos in the room. Puppies yelping, cats mewling loudly, Dogs barking and above all a heavy pounding that shook the room.

"Migraine alert!" a bullmastiff yelled and the pets hurriedly returned to their stations.

But it was too late, the pounding only increased until the noise was so loud Elizabeth had to cover her ears. She stepped backwards and the ground opened below her.

"Lizzy! Are you alright?"

Elizabeth opened her eyes blearily and tried to focus. Jane was shaking her shoulders gently but urgently.

"Where am I? What happened?"

"I think you fainted, dear sister. I was worried and came looking for you, I found you on the floor."

"It was all a dream," Elizabeth muttered. Against all odds, she felt disappointed that her experience wasn't real. This dream Mr. Darcy proved to be very interesting. Slowly, with her sister's help, she stood and started to walk towards the stairs.

"Lizzy, where have you been? Your back is covered with hay! Did you sneak outside?"

Elizabeth touched her back and oddly enough, clasped on a few stalks.

"Can you help me take it off?" Elizabeth asked her sister, and sneaked one stalk into her pocket, a mischievous smile on her face.

She couldn't wait for her sister's wedding to come.


	4. Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy

**Thank you thank you oh wonderful commenters! I love reading your thoughts, please never stop :)**

 **For all of you who wondered about Mr. Darcy, here is his much anticipated POV. This chapter and the next were originally one chapter and I admit it is my favorite. I just love Darcy's POV. The way he is so clueless about Lizzy, his unintended jerkiness and how he will do everything for her, I just love the way his mind works.**

 **Pigtails- I forgot to answer your question about the monk. Our dear monk is guarding the entrance, but he has no powers so is quite useless...**

 **If I've forgotten to answer a question, or you have somthing to ask about the story, comment or PM me and I'd love to answer it :)**

 **I hope you enjoy Lizzy's mind as much as i did. This part is a little bit steamier than the rest, though nothing explicit. It ends with an itty bitty cliffie, but everything will be resolved in the next chapter, so worry not.**

 **The Door on the Wall**

 **Part 4**

"Come Darcy, you must hear this story!"

If there was something Fitzwilliam Darcy absolutely despised, it was being told he _must_ do that, or _have_ to see this. No, he did not _have_ to see anything and he _must_ not do anything. He _will_ do whatever the hell he wanted. He was his own master!

"What is it?" he irritably asked. He was annoyed, so very annoyed and vexed and ready to pull his hair out.

It was a Sunday afternoon, two weeks before the dreaded wedding. He arrived two days ago, to what seemed like chaos of servants and guests and one very loud Mrs. Bennet. He left his sister behind, hoping to deal with Wickham before she came for a visit, and so his greatest source of comfort was out of reach. He endured hours of dull conversations about nothing but lace and mutton and pudding and blue eyed angels. And one of Bingley's friends, the damnable Mr. Bottoms, was trying to court Miss Elizabeth right before his eyes! One more flirtatious wink and he was going to punch him in the face. The simpering fool! As if Elizabeth would like to marry a man that agreed with her on everything. She had spirit! The damn idiot would never be able to keep up.

"Finally, a few minutes to ourselves. Care for some brandy, my friend?"

Darcy looked at Bingley in surprise, he quite forgot that he was there. He looked around for the others and then remembered that Bottoms went to take his beauty sleep, and Hurst disappeared with his wife a while ago. It was extremely odd, the way the Hursts behaved, even more than not having Miss Bingley around. Not that he was complaining, mind you!

"Yes, brandy would be most welcomed."

"We didn't have much time to talk, Darcy. You must wonder what changed my mind, why I decided to offer for Miss Bennet despite-"

"Bingley, I should never have interfered," Darcy sighed. He hated to apologize, especially when he thought he was right. No, he shouldn't have said anything, but he still thought Miss Bennet did not love Bingley. Hearing her mother's crows did not help Miss Bennet's image.

"I know you meant well, Darcy. I do not begrudge you. But I have been bursting to tell someone my story, of how I found a way into my love's private thoughts."

When Bingley finished his tale, Darcy found himself speechless. He had never heard such an odd, ludicrous, ridiculous, absurd, preposterous- well, you get the idea- tale.

"You think I'm crazy, I know," Bingley laughed in delight. "But I don't care. Because I know what happened was real. Louisa experienced something very close to my encounter and Miss Bennet hinted that her sister, Miss Elizabeth, may have tried that too. Though Miss Elizabeth refuses to say who's mind it was."

'Who was it? Probably Mr. Bottoms,' Darcy thought bitterly. 'Or that dreadful Lucas boy.'

Later that evening, after enduring another boring supper with the Bennets, and grinding his teeth whenever Bottoms engaged Elizabeth in a conversation, Darcy was seriously considering grabbing Miss Elizabeth and taking her to the nearest altar. He was never a very jealous person, it was a very peculiar feeling to suddenly start at the age of eight and twenty. He tossed and turned in his bed until the wee hours of the morning, and only fell asleep after he decided to offer for Elizabeth that very same day.

As it happened, he woke up a little earlier than usual, too early in Bingley's household standards, and while getting ready for the day with the help of his valet, he remembered Bingley's story. 'What would it hurt to try?' he thought to himself. No one was about, Bingley confessed the corridor was mostly deserted even on midday. No one had to know. He dearly wanted to see his beloved's door.

Minutes later, staring into the eyes of the severe and rather ugly monk, he regretted his impulsive decision. He was never impulsive! He was never rash! That is, until Miss Elizabeth entered his life. He didn't even notice he was pacing, and his surprise at seeing the door on the wall was apparent, had anyone been about to witness.

With wonder his eyes caressed the shimmering door. He had rarely seen anything of such beauty. It was more a picture than a door, the colors bright and pleasing. Yellow, red, green and blue smeared on what looked like beech wood door. The shimmering was actually the brightness of the paint. It was chaos, it was happiness, it was a work of art, it was nothing like he had ever seen before. Above it, in an elegant, feminine hand, the words 'I will seek him whom my soul loves' were embroidered in golden thread. Darcy reached his hand to touch the door reverently, only to find that the paint was still wet. At first he was upset with himself for ruining Elizabeth's door, but then he found it rather nice to put his mark on it.

'Well, there is no time like now,' he told himself and firmly opened the door. The smell of old books assaulted his nostrils the moment the door opened. Had he wanted, he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from entering the intriguing tunnel. He was afraid the tunnel's ceiling would be too low for him, it wouldn't have been the first time. But to his surprise, it was just right. He walked down the corridor, the candles lighting the way. He took a deep breath, filling himself with the wonderful smell of what was very close to the smell of his library in Pemberley. Was there also a hint of grass? He thought he detected cinnamon in the mix as well. A heady combination.

With a sure stride he walked down the corridor until his legs gave way and he fell into the hole. Though he knew it would happen, he was surprised at the timing and wasn't prepared for the fall. The darkness and silence surrounded him and he felt unease until he fell on a mound of what felt like grass. He blinked and the light was back, and he realized he was sprawled on a tiny little meadow. The grass was unkempt and felt fresh in his hands as his fingers pulled on a bunch of it, just to smell it. A few red and yellow buttercups popped between the long grass and colorful dragonflies flew around in a gentle buzz.

Darcy had never been so content in his life. For a while, he contemplated staying on this little piece of heaven forever. But then he remembered his purpose. He was to see his beloved. Slowly, he got up and moved towards the bright room in front of him.

The room was very close to what Bingley described, it was large with many machines and dashboards supporting odd clocks. But it was painted a cheerful yellow and the floor bubbled and fizzed from time to time, like lava, or a live creature, breathing and waiting. Amongst the machines were seven red foxes, looking intently at the screen in the middle of the room.

Elizabeth sat in front of him, larger than life and as beautiful as ever with cobwebs in her eyes and messy locks of hair everywhere. At first he worried that he did not reach the right place, he was supposed to see everything from Elizabeth's eyes, wasn't he? Until he realized that just like in Bingley's story, a mirror was involved.

"Oh, Lucy, you are a Godsend, what shall I do without you?"

Darcy noticed a young maid behind Elizabeth, blushing furiously at the compliment while helping her mistress out of her nightgown.

Out of her nightgown?

That was when it registered in his mind; he was watching Miss Elizabeth undressing. He was going to see her naked. He knew he should go, close his eyes, do something to preserve her privacy, but he could not. His feet would not move. His eyes stayed stubbornly opened. He could do nothing but watch her raise her hands and allow the maid to take it off. By Lord she was perfect, absolutely, utterly, incandescently perfect. Full breasts, athletic build, mouthwatering white legs and an enticing, dark, oval shaped birthmark on her front hip. He hoped and dreaded Elizabeth would turn around, if he saw her naked backside he would probably die from a heart attack. Luckily, Elizabeth turned from the mirror to the basin to wash herself and he no longer saw her on the screen. He watched mesmerized as the water she splashed on her face cascaded over the screen, it was a beautiful sight.

"Going for a walk as usual, Miss?"

"Oh, yes, a simple dress will do."

The agony and torture and overwhelming joy of seeing Elizabeth getting dressed and ready for the day made Darcy a little dizzy. His mind did not register the mundane talk of Elizabeth with the servant, until she mentioned a walk. He should go search for her! Offer for her on the spot! Lord, if he had to wait another minute to touch that birthmark he would surely die!

Despite his need to find her and propose, he stayed. First of all, he had no idea how to get out. Secondly, being inside her brain was insightful and a little addicting. Now that she was dressed, he was able to notice the other inhabitants in the room. The foxes were efficient yet talkative, very much like the lady herself. He couldn't help the smile on his face when he heard their conversation.

"Do try to collect our things quietly, will you foxy? Poor Jane does not need to wake up due to your clumsiness."

"Hey, it wasn't my fault last time! Vixen forgot to put our shoes under the bed and I fell over them."

"Shush, you! Just make sure our dear Jane continues her beauty sleep."

"What are we going to do when she's gone?" a fox in the corner asked the room.

"Try to be happy for her?" Foxy suggested.

"Of course we're happy for her! How many get to marry for love? Yet we will miss her."

Their chatter left Darcy lighter, knowing that Miss Bennet will get married for love. It was one less worry for him to carry. At that moment Elizabeth reached what looked like the bookroom and greeted her father jovially.

"Good morning, Papa."

"Good morning, my dear. Going somewhere?" Mr. Bennet asked drolly.

"I'm going for a walk, as you well know. Unless you hurt your head and forgotten the last seven years or so. I recommend having your head checked, just in case."

"Entertaining as ever. And where will you go today?"

"Oakham mount, I shall be back to break my fast soon enough so you will not be left alone to suffer from dull wedding conversations."

"Bless you child. Before you go, I must ask, you are not planning on clandestine meetings with a man, are you?"

"Meeting with a man?" Foxy asked and was echoed with Elizabeth's voice. "Wherever he got that idea?"

"I can't help but notice the way that Bottoms fellow is hovering near you."

"Papa…"

"You know, if it was only Mr. Darcy there I wouldn't worry, I know how much you dislike each other. But Mr. Bottoms is grating on my nerves with his open manners."

Whatever they spoke next was lost on Darcy, he closed his eyes, lost in a fog of despair and humiliation. She disliked him? And she thought he disliked her? How could he be so off the mark?

When next he opened his eyes, Elizabeth was outside, on her way to Oakham mount. But Darcy could not enjoy the view. The foxes were talking but he put his hands on his ears in an effort to block them. He didn't want to hear them talking about him, about how much she hated him, despised him. What a fool he was!

And then the foxes became extremely animated and the room started shaking. It seemed like Elizabeth had broken into a run. The floor boiled and bubbled and the color changed from dark yellow to burned orange and then an angry red, and then the floor opened and Darcy fell.

It took some time for Darcy to realize he was back in Netherfield, but when he did, he closed his eyes again and prayed it was all a dream. He almost convinced himself that it was, when he brought his hands to his face and suddenly noticed the paint smears on his fingers and the grass stains on his breeches. Slowly, he brought himself to his knees and then stood up. He wanted to hide in his room, or order his valet to pack his belongings post haste. Instead, he walked to the stables. A long hard ride will hopefully sort him out.

When he found himself at the bottom of Oakham mount, watching Miss Elizabeth skipping her way down cheerfully, he knew. He could never give up. Somehow, someway he needed to change her mind.


	5. Mr Darcy & Miss Elizabeth Bennet

**Thank you dear commenters for the lovely comments. I'm glad you enjoy my tale and hope you'll enjoy the last chapter. This chapter is a little different from the rest, a little bit like an epilogue, but not quite.**

 **ODC get their HEA and that's a good reason to celebrate.**

 **The Door on the Wall**

 **Part 5**

"Insufferable man! Why must he speak to Mamma so coldly?"

"Vixen, you're forgetting we had to stop you for strangling her when she asked him how many chandeliers he had at Pemberley."

"I'm allowed to criticize Mamma as much as I want, Dixie. Mr. Darcy should treat her with respect."

 ****** 8 ******

"Looks like you need to eat your hat, Vixen dear. Did you notice how Mr. Darcy spoke with Mamma yesterday? Full ten minutes on lace, no less!"

"Well, I know not what happened to him, but I still maintain that he is insufferable. Why, he meets us three mornings in a row on our walk, and has yet to say anything but greetings and farewells. Isn't that right, Foxy?"

"Hey, I have no need to join your fascinating debate. I have work to do if I want to make sure we don't fall over a tree root."

"Yeah right. We all know you think he's handsome."

"I do not!"

"Do too!"

 ****** 8 ******

"Well, you got your wish, Vixen. Did he not talk about Pemberley?"

"I admit, we had a nice conversation. He's very knowledgeable and interesting. But why must he be so grave?"

"I rather like his brooding mien."

 ****** 8 ******

"Did you see that smile? Lord, the man has dimples! I nearly swooned!"

"Will you stop that, Ginger? You sound like Lydia."

"Don't listen to Vixen, Ginger, she's just bitter."

"That's untrue, I just think you all forgave him too quickly. I still have a hard time sketching his character. The way he treats Mr. Bottoms is appalling."

"Oh please, you can't stand Mr. Bottoms' simpering."

"I wish I knew what happened with Mr. Wickham, so I'd be able to judge better. Not knowing is killing me."

 ****** 8 ******

"Poor sweet Miss Darcy!"

"I can't argue with you today, Vixen. I think that's a first."

"Who that knows what her misfortunes have been, can help feeling her pain?"

"Think of Poor Mr. Darcy!"

"Mamma would argue that he is definitely not poor."

"Very bad timing, Foxy."

"Sorry, couldn't help myself."

"What must he went through when he saw the cur on the street that day?"

"Till this moment, I never knew myself."

"Had I been in love, I could not have been more wretchedly blind. But vanity, not love, has been my folly."

"Well Vixen, I say, no more. We shall treat him with utmost respect to atone for our past sins."

"Or at least show some remorse. I think utmost respect is beyond our abilities."

 ****** 8 ******

The last two weeks have been the craziest Mr. Darcy have ever experienced. He awoke early every morning, entered the tunnel into Miss Elizabeth's brain and then went looking for her on his horse. He found out, interestingly, that the painted door looked a little different every morning. Sometimes the color red was dominant, sometimes blue was smeared thicker, it was an ever changing work in progress. But his fingerprints stayed impressed on the paint in the same position since his first visit. Another thing he found was that Miss Elizabeth did not like to keep to one destination, but varied in her hikes. He also discovered that she liked to mull things over in the early hours of the morning, and so the foxes were very talkative. It was rather useful in finding out where she was going to go to, and what bothered her. He took great pleasure in proving her wrong.

He counted another whelp, increasing the number of foxes to eight, and wondered at the significance of it. And he also noticed a change in the scent welcoming him to the tunnel, for some reason it started to resemble his cologne mixed with the old book smell that used to be more dominant. He found out that her backside was as perfect as her front. It was the only day he did not meet her on her walk, he was far too aroused to face her. He was gratified to find the next day that she had missed him. Unfortunately, it increased his other problem.

He took great pleasure in introducing her to Georgiana, and they took a liking to each other immediately, as he knew they would. And as they stood at the altar yesterday, he standing for his friend, and Miss Elizabeth for her sister, he wished ardently that it was them taking their vows. His gloom disappeared the moment he heard that Miss Elizabeth, now Miss Bennet, was to spend the next fortnight with her sister and new brother in Netherfield, helping her sister adjust to her new role as Mrs. Bingley.

There was no need to go to the monk today, he knew. Miss Bennet was here and all he needed was to be near the stairways when she walked down so he could escort her to wherever she wanted to go. Yet he still found himself on his way to the second floor corridor. Being inside her brain was addicting. It was on his third round of pacing that he noticed her skirt from the corner of his eye.

"Miss Bennet!"

"Mr. Darcy!"

For a long minute both stared at each other. Darcy's mind was blank and he frantically searched for an excuse to his appearance. Until Miss Bennet started laughing, a full, throaty and very arousing laugh.

"Oh dear, you've been using the door, haven't you?"

"I'm sorry," his face crimson, he tried to apologize. "I didn't mean to spy on you."

"I can't missish about it now, can I? I was going to do the exact same thing."

Her eyes twinkled, bewitching him even more, and he knew that it was his chance. For he realized that Miss Bennet not only knew of the door but indeed used it before, and for him no less! He took her hand in his and smiled, showing his dimples.

"In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."

"That is most unfair, Sir, to use your smile at this time. For I have a feeling you know your dimple's prowess."

"You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings have changed, tell me so at once. _My_ affections and wishes, I think you know rather well."

"You have overcome your reservations?"

"You know I have."

"In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to ask for the intended's hand in marriage, Sir."

Mr. Darcy smiled again and knelt on his knee, still holding her hand. "Will you marry me, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth?"

She laughed merrily and nodded and he was overcome with pleasure. Spontaneously, he stood and grabbed her by her waist, twirling her around in his happiness.

"But, you must tell me what you saw in that room."

He blushed, but said nothing.

"Surely Sir, it wasn't so bad."

"Fitzwilliam,"

"Fitzwilliam," she breathed and blushed in return when he lowered his mouth to her ear and whispered.

"It was absolute heaven and torture combined."

"Fitzwilliam," she huffed, in a most charming way, as she would say at least once a day for the rest of their life.

"I promise to tell you after we marry."

And he did.

 ****8****

 **A short explanation about their brains:**

 **Every creature in the brain has his own areas of expertise. Like Hurst is a rather simple man, so he has less things to think about and less strawberries to work in his brain. Darcy has a lot of cats and dogs because he has many responsibilities. Up until now Elizabeth was never in love, so when Darcy found another little fox in her brain, it was because she was starting to love him. The way his scent took over her tunnel symbolize her attraction to him.**


End file.
